


Can Phil Express An Opinion?

by whataqueerfish



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, No Smut, Swearing, aiming for pheels not phactual accuracy, i took a LOT of poetic license with this, i'm sorry if i'm doing this all wrong this is my first time, i'm sorry to the other youtubers at the panel i'm sure you're all very pleasant people irl, non-au, relationship kind of implied??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataqueerfish/pseuds/whataqueerfish
Summary: Inspired by this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOvsIJ6fsqs





	Can Phil Express An Opinion?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is my first attempt ever at writing fanfiction, so please leave a comment and tell me what you think :) It would help me out tremendously as I obviously have no idea what I'm doing.

     I have always felt an overwhelming urge to protect him.

     We were at another one of those panels, organized by business people with purely the intent of making as much money off infatuated teenage girls as possible.

     Me and Phil were on the panel with five other Youtubers whom I frankly didn't care much for. I'd been reluctant about showing up in the first place, but Phil really wanted to go, saying it'd benefit us regardless of how much I wanted to just stay at home and play Halo.

     The truth is, panels and conventions stress me out, which is ironic seeing as my livelihood kind of depends heavily upon them. It's just that with so many people gathered into such a small place, there's no way of knowing what might happen, and what someone might do. For the most part, I’m okay when I'm interacting with fans, but it's a different story altogether when I have to deal with other creators, especially ones that aren't exactly fans of me and Phil.

     But then again, I tried to reassure myself as we walked into the convention hall, half of the people in the audience were probably only there to see Phil anyway, so at least we won't be lacking in moral support.

     The panel kicked off to a lively start. Most of the Youtubers at the table weren't shy, and everyone was trying to talk over each other as the host attempted to regulate the conversation. Me and Phil were sitting at the very end of the table, so we naturally huddled up close to each other. I was just trying to remain inconspicuous, which wasn't an easy feat, being 6'4 and all.

     Throughout the event, there were moments when I could tell Phil wanted to join in on the discussion. But sitting at the very end of the table, and being naturally soft spoken in a sea of brash vloggers, he didn't get many opportunities to be heard. I was getting a bit angry, despite the obligatory awkwardness that seems to paralyze me whenever I'm plagued with the task of human interaction. One vlogger on the panel was making ass jokes, for chrissake. I knew Phil had something way more meaningful to say.

     Then, the conversation shifted to advice we as creators might have for someone just starting out on Youtube. Phil started speaking into his microphone, but his voice was immediately inundated by the Youtubers at the middle of the table, where most of the action had been happening so far.

     I realized these people were just flat out ignoring Phil now.

     Apparently, I wasn't the only one who noticed this either, as a chorus of shouts drifted up from the audience. "Let Phil speak!" I heard, amongst other protests.

     I'd had enough of this. I was sick of people walking all over Phil. I've always told him that he needs to stop being so goddam nice all the time and stand up for himself. But confrontation just isn't in his nature. He can't even kill the spiders we occasionally find around the flat. He just traps them in a cup and tosses them out the window, which I've pointed out to him probably ends up killing them anyway. But Phil just can't intentionally cause harm, which I think can be seen both a virtue and a vice. It's definitely the latter, though, in this situation.

     See, I'm much of the confrontational type either. In fact, I'd always been pretty shit at dealing with schoolyard bullies. I let them call me names and push me around, and never really did anything about it.

     But here’s the thing: it was _me_ who was on the receiving end of their crap. And I guess I just never thought of myself as important or worthy enough to stand up for, which was probably why I let them fuck with me for so long.

     But in this case, it was Phil. Kind, sweet, beautiful, amazing Phil. Phil, who wouldn't hurt a fly; Phil, who creates videos more original and creative than all of these Youtubers could ever dream of; Phil, who probably had an opinion much more intelligent and worthwhile than anything anyone had said so far the entire panel.

     But having been completely ignored, Phil just smiled into his microphone and prepared to sit back into his seat. I leaned over to him and said, “Have you got an opinion, Phil?”

     Phil just shook his head and said, “No, it's fine."

     I wasn't convinced. The host was about to move on from the conversation, so before the part of myself that helps me avoid all social interaction could kick in and sit me back in my seat, I leaned all the way across the table, over the guy with dreadlocks sitting next to me, and grabbed the microphone in front of one particularly loud Youtuber.

     "Can Phil express an opinion?" I let every ounce of sarcasm I had stored up in my body bleed into those words as I stared the host straight in the face.

     I could hear shouts of encouragement and also a few scattered "awws" from the audience. But I didn't really give a fuck about all that. From the corner of my eye, I could see the guy from whom I'd stolen the microphone shooting me a death glare. But I didn't give a fuck about him either. I just looked at Phil, waiting for him to go on.

     Phil was blushing deeply, an abashed smile tugging on the corner of his lips. I knew I would have to pay for what I did later, both with Phil and the Youtubers whose enlightening conversation I had interrupted. I didn't really care about what those other Youtubers thought of me, though. It was Phil's reaction that suddenly had me wondering if maybe I’d kind of fucked up.

     Luckily, if he thought anything of it, Phil didn't let on. Instead, he just smiled and started speaking. He talked about how for burgeoning Youtubers, these conventions were actually the best place to meet likeminded creators, and perhaps start a community where everyone can influence and benefit each other. I listened intently to every word he said, slightly in awe of how he's able to completely capture the audience as soon as he opens his mouth.

     After Phil's done, the host moved on to another subject, albeit slightly awkwardly after my less than dignified interruption.

     Phil's attempts to speak for the rest of the panel didn't go by unnoticed, and for the most part, the host and the other Youtubers listened to him politely. To be honest, I wasn't sure if it was because they really thought Phil had something valuable to contribute, or they thought I would flip out again if they continued to exclude him.

     Several times I tried to catch Phil's eye by glancing at him in what I could only hope to be a discreet manner. He didn't look my way once, and just kept smiling and talking to the audience and the other Youtubers.

     The panel eventually reached its end. After we hugged and took some pictures with some fans, and I generally managed to avoid the other Youtubers who were probably ready to skin me at any given moment, me and Phil got into a cab and headed back to our hotel.

     The car ride was completely silent. Phil sat staring out the window the entire time with an expression on his face I couldn't discern for the life of me. It was a short ride to the hotel, perhaps ten minutes or so, but I was literally screaming internally the whole entire time. Some of the things I thought to myself include, "great, Dan. You've gone and fucked up your relationship with the single most important person in your life," and "you've made literally the only person in the whole entire multiverse who can put up with your fucking existential crises and shitty sense of humour hate you," and "this is exactly why you never had any friends up until you were 18 and why you'll never have any friends from this point on."

     All those thoughts built up into a giant cacophony inside my head, but on the outside I remained completely silent. It was the first time in a very long time that I felt socially awkward around Phil.

     The thing is, Phil wasn't saying anything, which my brain translated into an indicator that I should stay quiet as well. So while I should have been salvaging my friendship, I just sat rigid on a cold leather cab seat and tried to focus on not throwing up all over my jeans.

     The taxi soon rumbled to a stop, and before I could offer, Phil paid the fare and got out of the cab. For a second, it seemed like he was going to head into the hotel and leave me behind. But then he stopped on the curb and turned to look pointedly at me.

     I climbed out of the cab, voices singing in my head that maybe Phil didn't completely loathe me after all.

     And then we were both standing on the curb, and the first thing that popped out of my mouth was, "Are you mad at me?"

     After a pause, Phil sighed, “Dan, you had no right."

     "I know, I'm sorry, but Phil, those guys were acting like complete dickheads. They wouldn't let you speak."

     "Then that's my problem to deal with, Dan. I _can_ , in fact, express an opinion on my own. If those guys weren't acknowledging me, then it could have been because I wasn't speaking loud enough, or they were just being obnoxious on purpose. But I don't need you to _protect_ me, or whatever it was that you thought you were doing."

     I muttered something unintelligible even to myself.

     "Sorry?" Phil said.

     "ButIlikeprotectingyou."

     It all came out in a single breath. The possibility of this has never occurred to me before, but as soon as those words tumbled unceremoniously out of my mouth, I knew they were true.

     "You _like_ protecting me?" Phil's eyebrows shot up and he looked at me incredulously.

     For a moment, it was like my brain to mouth filter disappeared, and everything came spilling out. "Well, Phil, you're like...you're just too fucking nice, okay? It’s like, you’re such an easy target. And the world's full of cunts, some of whom we met today. And…and you need to start standing up for yourself, okay? Because every time I watch someone screw you over, or push you around, I get so fucking pissed off. Because you don't deserve that shit, and if I have to talk over a million self-important dickheads to make you realize that, I will. Phil, you're...you're so kind, and _good_ , and you deserve to be respected, and listened to, and cared for, and protected, and loved, and..." I finally trailed off, realizing the implications of what I just said.

     "Dan..."

     "No, no. Forget it. It's fine. Look, I’m sorry for saying that shit at the panel. I won't do that kind of stuff again. Let's just go, okay?" I headed towards the hotel entrance, where a doorman stood trying to pretend like he didn't hear all the things we were shouting at each other in the middle of the street. I could sense Phil trailing behind me, but I refused to turn around in fear of what I might find in his expression.

     We made our way to the hotel lift like this, me hunched over with my fists buried in the pockets of my jeans, and Phil doing whatever he was doing that I was too scared to find out.

     Our hotel rooms were forty something floors up, and thus began our slow ascent. Finding the silence unbearable even though I was the one to suggest we drop the conversation downstairs, I couldn’t help but attempt to resolve the tension.

     "So……are you still mad at me?" I glanced at Phil tentatively.

     "How could I be mad, Dan?"

     I finally looked up and fell straight into Phil's imploring eyes.

     I didn't know how to respond to what he said, so we just looked at each other in silence as the elevator music marked our impending destination.

     It was true that we were both ignoring the elephant in the room; it has been true since the day we met, really. And maybe one day we can finally address it.

     But for the time being, all I have to go on are little moments like this.

     I just have to try to convince myself that they are enough – at least for now.

     And so, to break the moment of intensity I was finding to be more and more paralyzing, I joked, "You know, the Phandom is probably going to start talking once a clip of what happened at the panel is uploaded to the Internet."

     And Phil, still looking into my eyes, just said, "Let them."

 


End file.
